


Whatever Happened To...?

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolyn brings Jim a birthday present, and gets quite a shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Happened To...?

MA- Mature Adults only. Contains m/m sex. Not intended to infringe upon the  
rights of Pet Fly Productions.

## Whatever Happened To...?

by Hellblazer  


Balancing a carefully and elaborately wrapped box in one arm, and the keys in another, she carefully opened the door, moving quietly across the floor, she crept up the stair to the loft. 

She stopped at the top of the stairs, suddenly realising Jim was not alone. A dark haired beauty lay sleeping atop him, draped over his chest. In the pale light of her study, she realised the shoulders, the back, the buttocks, did not belong to the female form; the beauty was Blair Sandburg. 

Jim dreamt he could smell Carolyn's perfume. The scent teased him; it was real. Blue eyes snapped open and focused. He sat up so sharply Carolyn shrieked and dropped the present she carried, the coloured box smashing loudly onto the floor. 

Blair popped up blearily. 

"What?" asked Blair, not quick enough to see Carolyn flee from the scene. Jim was pulling on a pair of jeans as fast as he could. 

"Carolyn," was all he said as he padded down the steps after his ex-wife, leaving Blair staring at the smashed present on the bedroom floor, putting the pieces together. 

"Carolyn!" He caught her arm and spun her around. 

She glanced away, wiping tears from her eyes. 

"Just tell me, is this why our marriage failed? Why you were so cold, so disinterested? Because you were gay?" 

"Maybe, I don't know. I've got a lot going on in my life. I blamed those months in the jungle, being alone, why I couldn't reach out, the way you wanted me to. But maybe you're right. I've never felt this way before. Blair..." 

"He seduced you, didn't he," she accused. 

Jim blushed slightly. 

"Yeah. Moved in on my life totally." He shook his head fondly. "He's made me explore myself, my feelings, made me feel..." he couldn't find the words without tipping Carolyn to the full extent of the weirdness in his life. 

"I guess the only important thing is that you're happy. Are you happy, Jim?" 

His smile lit up his whole face. 

"Yeah, I guess I am." 

It was Carolyn's turn to blush. "I'm sorry Jim. It's silly, I know. We're separate people now. I've no claim on you. But I never thought I'd be jealous of another guy." 

"You okay about this?" 

She nodded. "Yeah. After a small adjustment period, yeah." 

"You should come over," he offered. 

She was hit in the stomach again by a sudden bright spark of panic, an instant of squeamishness mixed with jealousy. This was her Jim, with Blair. She could handle it. Maybe. 

She nodded. 

"Great," Jim beamed, knowing enough not to press for a date. He shoved his hands in his pockets. 

"I should have told you. I'm sorry." he offered. 

"It's okay. Seeing is believing." She leant close and kissed Jim lightly on the cheek. 

"Happy birthday, Jim."   
  


* * *

Blair heard Jim come back, heard the start of coffee making procedures, listened carefully as to whether or not items were being placed or slammed down on the counter. There was almost sweet melody in the teaspoon dancing inside the ceramic cup. Believing it safe, he emerged from the loft, naked, yawning. 

Jim glanced up and grinned. 

"Hey, Chief." 

"Things okay?" he queried. 

"Yeah." 

Blair shrugged and slumped into the chair, uneasy. 

"It's okay," he offered. "I know the score. You're not over her. I'm nothing more than you second wife, second in status. Just on hand..." 

"Shut up," Jim growled fiercely, silencing Blair more harshly than he'd meant to, regretting it almost instantly. 

He knelt down before Blair, cupping his face in his hands. 

"It's not like that," he promised. 

"Jim, I'm sorry," Blair offered. 

"It's not your fault," Ellison murmured, brushing the kid's cheek with his thumb. 

The touch, skin brushing over skin, drew Jim down into his senses, losing him amongst them, and he surrounded himself. Drowning in the blue of Blair's eyes, the warm pulse of blood beneath his skin, his scent, the saltiness of his sweat, the thick, musky smell of his spent seed, the artificially sweet smell of his shampoo. His hair; Jim's fingers dug through it, carding it, delighting in it, shivering as he remembered how it felt, dancing across the bare flesh of his chest and back. He closed in, claiming the waiting mouth, pushing Blair back against the wooden table. 

"Hey, Jim, in the kitchen?" he heard Blair's voice question, almost distantly. 

"Yeah. Why not," his voice rumbled deeply in his throat as he moved on purely animal instinct, lost in the sharp little spears of Blair's stubble under his tongue, unaware of how tight his hands were holding Blair's shoulders, almost uncaring. 

Unaware, yet totally, completely aware of Blair, suddenly swallowed in the sensation of taste. Blair's taste, the soft, wet, slick sensations as his tongue pressed deep and hard, his fingers digging into flesh, pulling at hair, as he pushed Blair back, hungry to devour and drink in his taste, his smell, his touch. Blair surrendered up his body to Jim willingly, aroused, hard, to see Jim lost in the experience of his body. 

"Yeah," he coaxed, as Jim lapped at him blindly, tasting his skin, testing the texture between his teeth. 

"Oh, shit, yeah," Blair moaned, voice torn under Jim's sensory overload. He watched, eroticised, as Jim moved over his body like a blind man, touching and tasting, lost. Smiling as Jim's skin shivered and trembled under his faint touch as Blair guided him.   
  


* * *

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